Hell Yeah!: Gun Shy (Kindle Worlds Novella) (3 page)

He hadn’t needed to die.

If only Andy had seen how desperate he had been.

If only he’d reached out instead of curling into his own miserable ball.

If only they’d stood together against their father’s fists.

Shit, they’d only been kids, but they’d been large and strong.

Together, they could have taken the fucker down.

But hindsight was 20/20. And the mindset of a former SEAL sure as shit wasn’t the same as that of a scared kid.

It was astounding, when he looked back, to see what he’d once allowed. How he’d been brainwashed to think his father was more powerful than God. That he had the right to terrorize everyone in the family.

He was not that scared kid any more.

He would not tolerate any kind of abuse to his person, and that passion extended to any victim of abuse.

Especially the girl he’d had a crush on in high school. A woman who now gave him a flare of excitement in an otherwise barren existence.

God help Baron Hadley if Andy ever got his hands on him.

He couldn’t hold back a grim smile as he considered the prospect.

Then again, maybe God would look the other way.

He so often did.

Chapter Three

Though she was only scheduled to work until midnight, Melissa agreed to stay and close when Isaac asked her. She could use the extra hours and business at the bar had slowed down in the typical mid-week slump.

Unfortunately she’d forgotten about her car, and the fact that it was still back at the motel.

It wasn’t a long walk, and it was a lovely night, but strolls at two AM weren’t her habit. Terrence, the bouncer, offered to walk her home, but she hated putting him out. Besides, she had pepper spray in her purse, so she shot him a grin and declined.

She was glad she had. There was something soothing and sweet about the night air—the cool breeze and the clean scent. She tipped her face to the moon as she made her way down the broad, deserted streets toward home.

Her pace increased as the lights of the Grand Motel came into view. The motel was anything but grand. It had seen better days for sure, but it was priced for her budget, close to both her jobs, and it was clean and safe. That was all that mattered.

But even as the thought entered her head, she heard the ominous echo of footsteps behind her.

Her heart clenched and all her nerve endings stood on end.

She surreptitiously riffled in her purse for her pepper spray, but before she could find the cylinder, someone grabbed her from behind.

She screamed. Of course she did.

The sound bounced off the uncaring walls of the motel and was abruptly cut off as a foul hard hand covered her mouth and nose.

Panic sluiced through her.

First of all, she couldn’t breathe. Beyond that, the bastard, whoever he was, started dragging her away from the lights, into the darkness. A sinister chuckle danced over her shoulder. His hot breath scorched her neck.

No. No.

No.

She’d been a victim too long to let it happen again.

She fought him.

Like a feral creature.

In a way she’d never fought Baron. In a way she should have.

Using the moves she’d learned in the class she’d taken at the rec center last month, she reached back and gouged at his face, slammed her elbow into his midsection, whipped around and kneed him in the groin.

All of which merely made him angrier.

His hold on her tightened with bone-breaking intensity.

She couldn’t stop her whimper as his fingers dug into her upper arm. Then he hauled back a fist and slammed it into her face.

Any other woman would have been stunned by the impact. Perhaps incapacitated.

Melissa was used to such brute force.

She knew how to respond.

She curled into a ball and pretended to be unconscious because that was what he wanted.

But by the time he bent over her to lift her into his arms, she’d found her pepper spray and was ready.

She got him right in the eyes, and when he lurched back with a howl, she rolled out of his reach, bounded to her feet, and ran.

She was nearly to her door when he caught her again.

Snarling foul curses, he stared at her. “You’re gonna pay for that, bitch,” he growled. And then he hauled back that meaty fist.

Squeezing her eyes closed, she braced herself for the blow. This one was going to be bad.

But it never came.

A howl of pain issued forth. Surprisingly, it wasn’t hers.

When she opened her eyes, it was to see a dark shadow looming behind her assailant. He had the bastard’s fist in his grip and was bending it backwards.

An ominous
snap
resonated in the air.

Her attacker’s eyes widened and his mouth opened and he let go a high-pitched shriek and fell to the ground, clutching his broken arm.

The shadow stepped into the light.

Melissa stared at his familiar, bearded face.

For a moment, she was possessed of the urge to run; in many ways, this man was more ominous than the other. But then he spoke. As before, his voice calmed her. Soothed her.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded mutely.

“Call 911. I’ll keep a watch on this guy until the police arrive.”

“I-I-I…”

“Melissa.” The firmness of his tone cut through her shock. “Call 911.”

“Okay.”

After that, everything was a blur. She made her statement to the responding officer and watched as they carted her mugger away and then, when Andrew asked her if she needed a drink, she blithely followed him to his room.

Normally, she would never do such a thing, follow a man to his room.

But she did need a drink, and frankly, she didn’t want to be alone just yet.

He seemed to understand that, and for some reason…she trusted him. A tattered remnant of those halcyon days of youth, perhaps.

“I didn’t realize you were staying here too,” she said as he closed the door to his room. She scanned the interior. It was tidy and, other than the rumpled bedspread and some books on the bedside table, there was little evidence the room was occupied.

Andrew chuckled and headed over to the kitchenette and opened a cupboard, extracting a small bottle and a plastic cup. “Pretty fancy place,” he said. He shot her a smile as he poured a few fingers into the cup, which he then handed to her. “Sorry. This is all I have.”

She gave it a sniff. “What is it?”

“Scotch.” A dimple blossomed on his cheek above his beard. “It’s my emergency backup Scotch.”

“Emergency backup Scotch?” She took a sip gingerly. Then another. It was smooth and smoky, and warmed her.

“I always carry some.”

“Do you?” She couldn’t help but laugh, but that was probably just reaction. There was nothing funny about a man who carried a flask of alcohol with him at all times.

“Mmm hmm.” He sat in one chair and gestured to the other. He was much less intimidating when he was sitting, she decided. Or maybe it was the warmth of the Scotch in her veins. “I’ve been riding the Southwest and I don’t always find a place with good Scotch when it’s time to bed down.”

“And Scotch is necessary for a good night’s sleep.” She knew the type. Baron hadn’t been partial to Scotch, but he’d been partial to drinking
something
every night.

“Not necessarily.” The creases at the corners of his eyes crinkled. “But I enjoy a drink now and again. And nothing sucks more than inferior Scotch. How is it?”

“Good,” she had to admit. “But I’m not a fan of whisky.”

He clapped his hand to his chest. “Such heresy.”

“I’m more of a wine-r.”

“And here I had you pegged for Appletinis.”

“Oh, I won’t say no to an Appletini. Or a Lemondrop.” Her lips quirked.

She stilled when she realized they were having a conversation…and she was enjoying it.

Where the hell had that come from?

With the realization, heat crawled up her neck and she looked away. “Um, thank you for helping me back there.”

“You didn’t seem to need much help, but I had to step in. That guy fucking pissed me off.”

“I think you broke his arm.”

“Did I? So sorry,” he said, utterly unrepentantly. “He was lucky.”

“Was he?”

“I didn’t want to scare you more.”

She stared at him. “Scare me…more?”

“Yeah. You looked pretty shook up.”

She had been. And she had to wonder what he might have done if his fury slipped the leash. “I, well, thank you.”

“What were you doing out there at that hour anyway?” His gaze bore into her.

She tipped up her chin at the accusation in his words. She’d heard it before.
You were asking for it.
She hated that bullshit attitude. “I just got off work.”

“You
walked
from work?”

“It’s not that far.”

“It’s two in the morning.”

Oh, she didn’t care for his tone at all. “I am aware of that.”

“Don’t you have a car?”

“Of course I have a car.”

“Where is it?”

“In the parking lot.” She waved at the window and snarled, “Where it will be until I can afford a mechanic.” God damn son of a bitch—

“You broke down?”

Duh.
“I wasn’t walking for my health.”

“Obviously.”

She nearly smacked him. How dare he judge her? He knew nothing about her. He was just a guy who’d passed her in the halls in high school. A guy who’d run from this town at first chance. A guy who—

“I’ll have a look at it in the morning.”

Her jaw dropped. “What?”

“Don’t look so surprised. I know my way around an engine.”

“I’m not surprised. Well, not about that. It’s just…”

He tipped his head to the side and studied her. “What?”

“Why are you helping me?”

It was his turn to gape. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I help you?”

She huffed a sigh. “Everyone has an ulterior motive. Always.”

“That’s a pretty cynical view of life.”

“I have reason to be cynical.”

He studied her for a long moment and then nodded, as though he’d peeked into her soul and seen all her secrets. She didn’t like the feeling. It was far too raw.

“Okay. I do have an ulterior motive.”

Bitterness surged up her throat and danced on her tongue. Yeah. She knew it. He was too fucking good to be true. “And what is that?”

He eased forward, to the edge of his seat, and leaned in. Then he whispered, “I always liked you, Melissa Divine.”

Hell. Is that what it was? Was he one of those men? Men who traded for favors? Disappointment ravaged her.

“You were nice to me, back then. When I needed a friend. And I feel the urge to return the kindness.”

“I…what?”

“Don’t you remember? When I flunked the algebra exam and you tutored me?”

Oh. Yeah. “I remember.”

“But it was more than just that. You were always nice.” He leaned back, threaded his fingers and stared at them. “We were friends. Weren’t we? I like to think we were.”

Something lodged in her throat. Something thick and clingy. “We were.”

“Well, there you go.” He offered a smile, but it was a little wobbly. “I’d like to be friends again.”

Try as she might, she couldn’t completely eradicate her suspicion. “Just friends?”

He lifted a broad shoulder. “Don’t jump the gun, honey. We just met again.” It was a jest, one designed to put her at ease. It didn’t work.

She sucked in a breath and stiffened her spine. “Because, in the interest of full disclosure, I just got out of one bad relationship and I have no desire to…indulge in another.”

He sighed and scrubbed his face. “Look, I’m only in town for a short while, and, in the interest of full disclosure, I’m not looking for a relationship either. But if you’re asking me if I find you attractive, I do. And if you are asking if I would be interested in exploring something with you, I would. But if you’re not ready or interested in anything like that, I’ll settle for friendship. If you’re willing.” He shot her another smile. “I could use a friend or two in town.”

Damn. He did seem sincere.

There was nothing creepy lurking in his demeanor, and she was a pretty good judge of creepy.

“I…would like to be friends,” she said. But it took effort.

Trust took effort.

He nodded. “Well, there you go. Friends.” He thrust out his hand and she took it. His warmth seared her, comforted her. She didn’t want to let go, but she had to.

She was the one who had drawn the lines here and she didn’t want to give him mixed messages now.

“Friends.”

“Excellent. Now, I’m tired. I have to get up and go to the courthouse in the morning. You’re welcome to stay here if you don’t want to be alone. I totally understand. Or I can walk you to your room.”

The thought of being alone sent a ribbon of panic through her. But she couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t test this fragile friendship right off the bat. Could she?”

He stood and headed for the closet. “You can have the bed.”

“I can’t take your bed!” Then, when he pulled out a blanket and pillow and tossed them to the ground, “You’re not sleeping on the floor.”

His chuckle was harsh. “Trust me, compared to some of the places I’ve slept, this carpet is like a feather bed.”

“Andrew, I won’t put you out.”

He turned and fixed her with a steady stare. “It would put me out worrying about you all night. Really, it would. But if you’d rather not stay, that’s cool too.”

Damn it.

She wanted to stay. Needed to stay. But that weakness irritated her.

She didn’t like to think she needed anyone.